


come (and find yourself)

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Big Time Adolescence (2020)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking, Drug Use, Friends With Benefits, Internalized Homophobia, Intoxication, M/M, Making Out, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Smoking, Unreasonably Large Dicks, handjobs, slight dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23614981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: For a second, he kisses back, leaning into it, tasting vodka and pot on the tongue that slides into his mouth against his own.Or, Zeke and Nick.
Relationships: Zeke Presanti/Nick (Big Time Adolescence)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	come (and find yourself)

**Author's Note:**

> look I was just struck by the need for nick/zeke entirely on their own, and somehow that turned into zeke being unwilling to confront his internalized homophobia and nick making him come on his monster cock. do i fully understand how we ended up here? not at all. but i hope y'all enjoy! 
> 
> big thanks to han for beta'ing!

As Zeke turns to say something about the movie, he’s abruptly kissed. For a second, he kisses back, leaning into it, tasting vodka and pot on the tongue that slides into his mouth against his own. He lets out a faint groan in the back of his throat and his dick gives a hopeful twitch in his sweats. A hand cups his cheek—and that’s what breaks the spell. The hand is huge, long and bony fingers covering his cheek, even if the touch is tender and careful. 

Zeke rears back and stares at Nick. “Dude,” he rasps, ignoring the heat in his lap as his dick continues to get hard. “What the fuck?”

Nick blinks at him before his lips split into a crooked grin. “C’mon,” he drawls in a voice heavy with a high, “what’s your problem?” Nick licks his lips and Zeke tracks the movement with his eyes. 

Zeke swallows. He’s crossfaded as fuck, and he knows Nick is probably even farther gone. It’s just the two of them at Zeke’s tonight—Holly bailed a few hours ago and Mo had to head home before his parents started wreaking havoc looking for him. They’ve been watching movies for the last couple hours, but Zeke suddenly couldn’t care less about what Nick’s thoughts on _The Fate of the Furious_ are. 

“No problem,” Zeke says, “what’s _your_ problem?”

Nick’s hand cups his cheek again and he draws Zeke closer. “No problem here,” he says before he kisses Zeke once more. He doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, licking his way into Zeke’s mouth and leaving Zeke feeling uncharacteristically overwhelmed. Zeke presses into the kiss, tries to find some kind of upper hand, but then Nick’s hand on his cheek slides down to his throat and it’s like all the fight leaves Zeke abruptly. 

“That’s it,” Nick murmurs as Zeke tips back toward the arm of the couch. Nick looms over him, sliding between his legs. Zeke’s head is spinning as he looks up at his friend but his dick is so hard it fucking hurts. Nick’s hand slides along Zeke’s neck, pressing briefly on his adam’s apple before moving further down. 

“Dude,” Zeke half-moans, “I’m not letting you fuck me on my couch.”

“But you are gonna let me fuck you?” Nick asks, a lilt of delight in his tone. 

“Fuck you,” Zeke retorts. Nick only grins wider at him, so he leans up to kiss the smug expression off his stupid face. Nick smiles into the kiss and Zeke bites at his lip but it does nothing to deter him. The kiss is wet and sloppy, hot but confusing. Zeke doesn’t know what to do with his hands, with his hips, and it’s driving him crazy.

Nick isn’t Holly, with her cute little tops and lacy little bras hiding underneath—he’s just Nick, in his stupid ratty ass t-shirt and his scrawny chest under that. He doesn’t have hair that Zeke can tug on, and he’s definitely not wearing a thong Zeke can snap playfully against his skin. Nick is just _Nick_ , in baggy jeans, whose cock is hard and hot against Zeke’s own. 

“Bedroom,” Nick says into the kiss as both his hands find Zeke’s waist, “bedroom, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Zeke breathes back. “You gotta get off me, though, dude.”

“Could carry you.” Nick’s hands glide to the small of Zeke’s back and he grunts softly as he gives a little heave. He manages to lift Zeke off the couch a few inches and Zeke’s a little ashamed to admit he yelps. “I’m just playing, you big baby.”

“Fuck you, dude,” Zeke says as he squirms in Nick’s hold. He pulls his leg up and pushes his knee against Nick’s chest. “Off, dude, let me up.”

Nick lets go and rises from the couch. He stumbles a little bit, tripping over his own feet, then holds out a hand for Zeke to take. For a moment, he considers brushing it off. For a moment, he considers putting a stop to this whole thing and telling Nick to get the fuck out of his house. This isn’t normal, for them. It isn’t something they _do_. It isn’t even really something Zeke has thought about. He’s not a queer but people are also just _people_. 

He’s way too stoned to be thinking like this. Nick’s hand waves in front of his face and brings him out of his turmoil.

“You coming or not?” Nick asks, waggling his fingers. 

“Think that depends on how good you are with your dick,” Zeke says as he takes Nick’s hand. Nick gives a hard yank and pulls him up and off the couch, sending him tripping into Nick’s arms. 

“You did that on purpose, asshole,” Zeke snaps.

Nick, of all things, ruffles Zeke’s hair. He helps Zeke get steady on his feet before taking his hand again. He leads Zeke to the bedroom, like it isn’t Zeke’s own fucking house, like he doesn’t know where his own fucking bedroom is. Zeke opens his mouth to bitch about it—he’s not some _girl_ , okay. 

“Fuck off,” Zeke says as he pulls his hand away from Nick’s and pushes past him to get into the bedroom first. He starts stripping off his clothes without looking back at the other man, and gets as far as his shirts before two hands land on his hips yet again. “Dude, don’t make this some big _thing_.”

“I’m not,” Nick says simply. His lips trail along Zeke’s neck and his hands dance around Zeke’s bare hips to the front of his sweats. “Kinda sounds like you are, though.”

“I’m not a fag,” Zeke snaps even as he shivers. 

“Neither am I.” Nick bites briefly on the juncture where neck meets shoulder but he doesn’t linger long enough to leave a mark. “Just feeling good, yeah? You know fuckin’ when you’re high is fucking dope, man.”

It is fucking dope, of course Zeke knows that. He still wants to argue, though, because Nick touches him so gently that his first instinct is to do the opposite. He looks over his shoulder to glare at Nick, and his irritation burns brighter when he finds the same smug grin on Nick’s face. 

“Just chill the fuck out, Zeke,” Nick says as he slips his hands down the front of Zeke’s sweats. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

Zeke wants to retort, wants to do _something_ other than feel like putty in Nick’s hands, but...Well, Nick’s grip on his cock is tight and perfect and Zeke can’t do anything but _gasp_. 

“That’s it,” Nick says again as he strokes along Zeke’s dick. “Fuck, you’re big,” he murmurs, awed. He thumbs at the tip of Zeke’s dick, smearing precome around the head. “Knew it.”

“Of course you fuckin’ knew it,” Zeke hisses as he fucks into Nick’s fist, “not like I keep it a secret.”

“Hearin’ you brag about it and feeling it are different things.” Then, because he’s a bastard, Nick takes his hand away and pushes Zeke toward the bed. “You got lube?” 

“Yeah,” Zeke says as he twists toward the end table. He digs out a half-empty bottle of lube and when he rolls onto his back, Nick has stripped out of his jeans. “You’re not even gonna get naked?” 

Nick shrugs. “Does it matter?” 

It doesn’t, not really. If anything, Zeke thinks, feeling Nick’s bare skin on his own might make things _weirder_. Zeke ignores the little voice in his head screaming at him to kick off his sweats and yank at Nick’s shirt. He ignores the sudden ache for skin on skin. Instead, he tosses the lube at Nick and watches as he slicks up a couple fingers. 

“Knees up,” Nick commands with a slap to Zeke’s thigh. Zeke pulls his knees closer to his chest and shudders as Nick tugs at his sweats to expose the curve of his ass. Neither of them speaks and the moment feels charged, too intense. 

“Fuck this,” Zeke mutters as he twists toward the end table again. He grabs a joint and a lighter where they sit beside the lamp and lights up.

“You serious?”

“I’m too sober for this,” Zeke says. His words come out a little more bitter than he intends but Nick doesn’t call him on it. He’s grateful for that at least, because Zeke’s not even sure what he’s bitter _about_. He _doesn’t_ want some tender movie moment with Nick. He’s not even sure he wants Nick’s dick in his ass—but he’s not sure he _doesn’t_ want that, either. His head is too scrambled and Zeke’s sure it’s because he’s sobering up, so he takes a long drag off the joint. 

Nick watches him as he shuffles closer. “Give me a hit,” he says as his slick fingertips dance along Zeke’s ass. 

Zeke holds out his hand at first but Nick shakes his head.

“My hands are occupied,” Nick says, “just hold it for me.”

Zeke swallows. He twists his hand so the burning end faces him and he stares as Nick leans closer to wrap his lips around the end of the blunt. At the same moment that he starts to inhale, he pushes one finger into Zeke. Zeke gasps at the sensation of Nick’s finger inside him but also Nick’s lips brushing his fingertips. 

Nick pulls back and Zeke’s hand drops to his side, roach still burning. Nick holds his breath and starts to finger fuck Zeke. He grins at Zeke before dropping his gaze between them. He lets out his breath in a low hiss as he curls his finger once inside Zeke.

“Fuck, dude,” Zeke moans softly as he knots his free hand in the sheets. “Feels fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, “you’re doing good.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Zeke snaps before he takes another hit. He tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling. The smoke drifts from his lips and pools in the air above them before dissipating. He winces slightly as Nick slips another finger alongside the first but it’s surprisingly easy to adjust. It might just be the pot hitting him hard and fast, or it might be that Nick actually knows what he’s doing—Zeke’s fingered a couple girls in the ass, after all. 

“Zeke, c’mon,” Nick says, voice stern. He thrusts his fingers a little harder and Zeke arches his back in response. “Look at me.”

Zeke sighs, smoke billowing from his mouth, but he obeys. His fingers feel lax on the joint so he readjusts his grip before offering it to Nick again. He angles it the same way as before—so Nick can take a hit without using his hands. 

Nick locks eyes with him as he leans in for another puff. He lets it out sooner this time and by the time the smoke is gone, he’s adding a third finger. 

“God damn,” Zeke hisses, squirming. “Easy, dude, fuck.”

“You’re fine, you’re doing so good,” Nick murmurs. His clean hand rests on Zeke’s side like he’s trying to sooth him, and Zeke hates it but he loves it even more. He likes the words spilling lazily from Nick’s lips and he likes the way Nick’s mouth is still red from making out. “You good?” Nick asks with a nod to the joint.

“One more,” Zeke says, because he wants his hands free suddenly. He takes a quick hit, hopes it’ll last him long enough, before stubbing the joint out in the ashtray on the bedside table. He shoves at his sweatpants to give himself a little more room to move and then he slaps at Nick’s shoulder. “C’mon, I’m ready.”

“I dunno,” Nick drawls as he curls his fingers yet again, “might need to keep you like this a little longer.”

“I swear to god, dude, I will finish myself off and make you jerk off in the fucking bathroom.” 

Nick snorts. “Bossy,” he says, sounding far too affectionate. He pulls out his fingers with a quiet, wet sound, then shoves his boxers down to expose his cock. 

Zeke leans up to catch a glimpse—it’s only fair, the thing is going inside him anyway—and he chokes on his tongue. “Fuck, dude, _fuck_.” 

Nick laughs, bright and loud, as he smears lube over his fucking _gigantic_ cock. Zeke’s hung, sure; he’s proportionate to his six-foot-one frame, nothing to sneeze at. Nick, though, Nick is six-foot-four and calling him proportionate would be a stretch. He’s fucking stupid big, with at least an inch in length on Zeke and thick like a fucking twinkie.

“Did you just call my dick a twinkie?” Nick asks. 

“Maybe,” Zeke says before reaching out and hooking his hand around the back of Nick’s neck. “C’mon, fuck me, already.” 

“Bossy,” Nick says again, but he rocks forward and kisses Zeke at the same moment the thick tip of his cock presses inside. It’s immediately too much but Zeke doesn’t say so. He kisses Nick back to distract himself from the burst of pain as his body adjusts and finds it surprisingly easy to lose himself in the kiss. Nick’s hand leaves his side to cup his cheek again and Zeke tilts his head obediently to deepen the kiss. 

“Fuck,” Zeke pants as the kiss breaks, “fuck, dude, hang on.”

Nick stops. “Too much?”

“You’ve got a fucking monster cock, dude, sue me for needing a minute.” Zeke closes his eyes and focuses on adjusting. Girls make it look so fucking easy; _porn_ makes it look so fucking easy. It’s _not_. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Zeke mutters, “who needs a cock that big anyway? Fucking ridiculous.”

Nick snorts and takes the words for what they are: permission to move. He pulls out until only the tip splits Zeke open, and then he sinks in until his balls slap against Zeke’s ass. It’s a long, languid sort of thrust, but Zeke thinks if Nick were to really rail him right now, he might break. He scrambles to find purchase along Nick’s shoulders and tilts his head up for another kiss.

Nick obliges him, wet and filthy, and starts to speed up. The headboard rocks against the wall and Zeke wonders if he’ll ever be the same after this. He doesn’t see how, when it feels like Nick’s cock is splitting him open and rearranging Zeke to fit around him. It’s not supposed to be intimate, yet it is. He and Nick are breathing the same air; even though neither of them are completely naked, Zeke is still painfully aware of every brush of his skin against Nick’s. 

“Zeke,” Nick moans quietly, “you feel so good.”

The words stoke the fire at the base of Zeke’s spine and he works a hand between their bodies to wrap it around his cock. His strokes are clumsy and uneven, the high messes with his hand-eye coordination and Nick’s dick isn’t helping matters.

Except, it _totally_ is. Zeke’s adjusted, and it’s like nerves are coming to life that he didn’t even know existed. He’s going to come embarrassingly fast and he can only hope Nick is in the same boat. 

“You gonna come?” Zeke asks as he twists his hand around the tip of his dick. “Cuz I’m gonna come so fucking fast dude.”

“Pretty sure if you come, I’m gonna come. You’re so fucking tight, tighter than any girl.” Nick’s voice is strained and his rhythm’s turning uneven. He’s barely pulling out now; his thrusts are almost like a grind, right against a spot inside Zeke that makes him feel like his entire body is on fire. 

“Good.” Zeke pulls Nick into another kiss. It’s barely more than lips and tongues, sloppy, but it feels good all the same. His head feels like it’s full of cotton in the best way and Nick’s tongue in his mouth feels like it belongs there. 

“God, Zeke,” Nick murmurs, lips against Zeke’s jaw. “You feel so good around my dick, babe, fuck.”

The pet name sends a shiver down Zeke’s spine and he comes with a soft cry. He works his hand over his dick as come splashes onto his stomach, up across his chest and his tattoos. He tries to moan or groan, but all he can manage is punched-out, breathy sighs as Nick fucks him through his orgasm. 

Nick’s thrusts falter and he bites at the hinge of Zeke’s jaw as he comes. His groan reverberates against Zeke’s skin and his come fills Zeke’s ass. It’s a strange, new sensation, one Zeke isn’t sure he likes but not entirely sure he dislikes either. He squirms as Nick keeps thrusting, the _squelch_ of come and lube obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet bedroom. 

Nick falls forward against Zeke’s chest with a soft oof. 

“Dude,” Zeke whines. “Gross.

“Oh so I can come in your ass but I can’t lay on you?”

“I’m covered in come!” Zeke gestures to the milky white on his chest, then stares in horror as Nick reaches out two fingers and swipes them through the mess. Nick licks his fingers clean and Zeke’s dick gives a painful little twitch. “Fuck you, man, get off me.” 

“Fine, fine, jeez.” Nick pulls out and Zeke forces himself not to wince. Nick falls to one side of the bed, propped up on his shoulder so he still looms over Zeke. Zeke can finally stretch his legs out and shimmies out of his sweats before tossing them aside. “So.”

“Don’t make this a thing,” Zeke says again. The sweat is cooling on his skin, come is tacky on his stomach and between his thighs. “It’s not gonna be a thing.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Nick replies, voice sharp. “Christ, Zeke, you think getting dicked down would make you less of an asshole.” 

Zeke doesn’t look at Nick. “Whatever, man. It’s not some big deal or anything.” From the corner of his eyes, he can see Nick roll his eyes. “Felt good, whatever. Not like I need a dick in my ass to come.”

“So you’re saying you don’t wanna do this again?” Nick asks. Fuck him for sounding perfectly chill, like Zeke’s answer doesn’t matter to him in the slightest. Like he’s fine with whatever Zeke could say. 

Zeke doesn’t know. It’s a lot of work, a lot of mess, but his body is still tingling from the orgasm. “I’m not saying that,” he says. 

“Well alright then.” Nick rolls off the bed. As he strides toward the door, he strips naked. Zeke’s seen him shirtless and seen him pantsless, but never at the same time. Nick is built but not in a gross way, he’s stronger than Zeke, more muscular. His tattoos stand out on his pale skin. He stops at the door and looks at Zeke. “Your shower can fit two, can’t it?” 

“Not really,” Zeke says as he climbs off the bed. He’s just this side of too old to have round two again so quickly, but he’s also sore and filthy and he wants nothing more than to get clean. His shower really can’t fit two people, it can barely fit Zeke alone, but he follows Nick to the bathroom anyway. 

Once they’re in the cramped little space, and after the water runs hot, Nick tugs Zeke close and kisses him soundly on the lips. It’s brief but heated, and Zeke’s panting when Nick pulls away. 

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Nick says with that same smug smile, “clean yourself up.” 

Zeke slips into the shower first and with Nick crammed in behind him, it’s almost impossible to move around. The water is hot but Nick pressed along his back is even hotter, and Zeke’s stomach churns as he realizes he doesn’t completely hate this.

“This isn’t some big thing,” he says again, voice a little hoarse as Nick drags an old washcloth between Zeke’s thighs. 

“Nah, totally. I get it.” Nick agrees. “S’just us.”

Just like that. So simple. 

Zeke swallows. “Yeah, just us.” 

**Author's Note:**

> fellas, is it gay to let your friend's monster cock annihilate you? 
> 
> nah.


End file.
